Ripped
by Curtisimo
Summary: Mild-mannered American Teen Curtisimo is playing one of his favorite games; Minecraft. He ventures into a 'bugged out' Nether Portal and is ripped from our world, only to awaken in the world of the game! Will he survive? Who will he meet? Will he ever get back home?
1. Chapter 1: And so it begins

**Hello, friends! Curtisimo here! Now, the whole 'Sucked Into Minecraft' genre is pretty stale, right? All the same story; something something Minecraft something something Prophesy something Save The World. Well, I wanted to give it a go. However, I hope to add a little something to make it interesting again! Please, read and enjoy, and if you feel I've done something wonderfully right or horribly wrong, feel free to leave a review!**

* * *

In a relatively small town somewhere in the middle-ish of America, there lives a boy-man-thing. Not a boy, he was far past that age. Not truly a man either, though he liked to think of himself as one. So, refusing to refer to himself as a 'Teen' which in his mind translated to 'Gross slimy zit-faced thing' he was a boy-man-thing. For our purposes, well call him a Teen though. He won't mind.

This boy was many things; a gamer definitely. He wore his fingers to the bone playing on his computer or console. He was an avid reader, and had recently gotten into writing. He hoped to one day write a comedy TV show, but for now he wrote fan fictions. He was an academic, rarely making bellow an A. He liked to run and ride his bike too, when he felt like doing something.

This teens name was Curtisimo. Yes, that's his real name. Go ahead and laugh. Go on.

Done now?

Well, Curtisimo wasn't his real name, but it was what his close friends called him. Because it sounds sorta cool. And, well, it's a joke too. You kinda had to be there to get it.

One day, Curtisimo was playing a game he loved to death: Minecraft. Though his computer could only barely run it, he adored the game for its sense or triumph whenever he accomplished a feat. He also lived for the 'Look, I did this!' feeling he cot whenever he made something on a multiplayer server and got to show it off. Presently though, he was on his favorite server. He was planning on making a stone tower for his house, and was currently delving into a nearby cave looking for coal. He was having great sucess, as he usually did. While many players just dig to diamond level and mine straight for a mile, he always searched for caves instead. He found strip mining boring and a waste of resources. Besides, he always emerged rich from spelunking adventures.

_Fire_Flare11: TC, come check out my Nether Portal. It's acting weird._

_TCastro1332: Ok, lemmie just finish this digging then TP me._

And so they did that. Fire_Flare11 was a friend of his he met on the server. They were neighbors-ish. In game, that is.

When he arrived at the portal, it was indeed acting weird. It was green rather than its usual purple, and was making a vaguely vacuum cleaner-like sound.

_Fire_Flare11: A weird bug? _

_TCastro1332: Maybe. Could be a Seeecret Friday?!_

_Fire_Flare11: IDK. Go in?_

_TCastro1332: Me first. Don't wanna risk your gear if its a new dimention._

He ran into the portal, his character disappearing inside with a pop which made him jump and yank his headphones off. Strange... his headphones were on the table, but he could still hear the vacuum sound...

These were his last thoughts on Earth, as he was ripped from the universe with a loud crack. His parents were at work, and in the days that followed a four-day manhunt would go underway. No evidence was found, and Curtisimo wasn't seen until a while later.

* * *

I woke up in a tree at dusk. I sat up and gasped, eyes wide; he was in Minecraft. The fan fictions he had read, thinking them cheesy, had come true. He was in a cubic world.

This was AWESOME!

* * *

Curtisimo was always an easy adapter. Throw Armageddon at him and he'd still be looking for either an upside or a way to thrive. It should then be no surprise that he was taking all this in stride.

* * *

My quick, logical mind assessed the situation. A few minutes until dark fell, then I was on my own. I decided to do what I typically did on his first night, assuming typical Minecraft rules still applied. I swiftly punched down a short oak tree and gathered a bit of dirt. I then ran towards the nearest tree and climbed up it, using a combination of jumping skill and dirt placement. I then punched out a little hole in the leaves and squat there. It would be a long, boring night.

* * *

A little before midnight, I woke with a start. I had drifted off in my boredom, I guess. I searched around for the source of whatever noise it was that stirred me, prepared to send a hail of insults at it. It wasn't the single zombie that was meandering by the tree, nor the Enderman I could spot leaning against a birch. It was the crack of distant fireworks, which were being set off towards what I quickly surmised was south. Someone was either celebrating or signaling distress; either way, I resolved to head there tomorrow. I had sleeping to do, and planning to do while doing that sleeping.


	2. Chapter 2: Hilariously Stupid Guards

**Well, I feel like that first chapter went over well. Lets throw another up, shall we?**

* * *

You may wonder why a boy-man-thing would put such a priority on sleeping in a tree rather than investigating fireworks in the distance, or, indeed, flipping the hell out because he had been sucked into a video game. The answer is such: Curtisimo is an insomniac. How long would you say you sleep during a typical week? Seventy hours? Seventy-Two? Curtisimo, over a seven day period, gets a glorious round of fourteen hours of sleep per week. This is a horrifying strain on the mind, but Curtisimo tries to see the upside of everything, as previously stated. He had much more time to do stuff, which was a blessing, really. He wrote all his writing around midnight to two AM. He watched YouTube or Netflix during the rest of the insomniac hours. He then woke up, took a shower, and ate a bagel. The shower woke him up, and the high-calorie bagel gave him the energy to make it to lunch. Occasionally, he would enter what he jokingly referred to as a Reboot. He would sleep for nearly twelve hours and awake ready to face another week of constant lack of energy, not counting directly after eating. So, when he felt sleep tugging at him, he took it pretty seriously.

* * *

I was genuinely surprised when I woke up and thirty minutes later I didn't have a round pastry in my hand and/or face. It typically takes about thirty minutes for me to wake up fully and actually be aware of the world around me. After I came to grips with the fact that I wasn't going to be eating a bagel anytime soon, I took stock of my situation. I was in a tree in a videogame. Fireworks had been set off nearby, and needed investigating. I had neither a bagel nor a refreshed feeling you get from taking a shower.

I wondered if now was an appropriate time to flip the hell out.

I decided against it. Waste if time.

Gazing from the top of my tree, I tried to remember which way the fireworks had come from. The south? I thought so, but the memory of an unshowered insomniac was not to be trusted. Nevertheless, I leaped down from the tree, spraining my ankle upon impact. Gravity was, indeed, a harsh mistress. Dragging my injured leg behind me, I set off to the west. Trying to remember how far away the fireworks were, I estimated a day and halfs journey. Time to walk, I guessed.

* * *

There was nothing particularly interesting about the forest. Oak tree, oak tree, birch tree, overgrown oak, another oak, just lines of trees for miles and miles. I assumed that the world wasn't just some giant woodland wonderland, but when you assume you make an ass out of u and me. I stuck with that theory though.

Something that I had noted was the passage of time, and abundant that time was. In-game, time passes at a rate of seventy-two times faster that normal earth time. In the world though, Time continued its steady plod at a regular speed. An hour was an hour, not a little less than a minute. Which meant that the boredom of traipsing through an unremarkable wood wasn't hindered by making it quick. It was real-time boredom. The worst kind if boredom.

I wondered what rules this world went by. I didn't need to wonder about the look of the world; it was very natural looking and rounded, like the real world, but upon close inspection it could be seen where individual blocks began and ended. I looked like a normal human being, not a blocky cubelike individual, so I surmised other people were the same. But you know what they say about surmising: it's just what smartass assumers do.

I wondered how I was doing. Like, real-world me. If the fanfics I had read were true in any respect, one of two things had happened. The first: I was in a coma in real life. The second: I had simply vanished. (It was of course the latter, but He had no way of knowing this.) Or, maybe a third option: I was dead. I had either died when I was sucked in, or this is the afterlife.

Seemed a bit unoriginal for an afterlife. No clouds, no golden gates, just a forest. Seemed unlikely, therefore, that this was the afterlife. You would expect some kind of glamour. Maybe a big neon sign informing people that **THIS IS THE AFTERLIFE, SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS.** You know, for people who weren't quite sure what was going on.

God, this was boring. It even seemed to be leeching into my thoughts at this point. The boredom, that is. If someone were to read my thoughts as if they were a book, would they be entertained? Or would they tire of the monotony of exposition and description?

I realized that, if someone WERE to read my thoughts like a book, I would be breaking the fourth wall just now. I decided to shut up and keep walking.

* * *

What followed was the longest time Curtisimo had ever gone without thinking about anything in particular. Curtisimo liked thinking, pondering, observing, surmising and the occasional spot of deducing. And, with the time tacked onto his day by the aforementioned insomnia, he had a lot of time to do this. He thought about life. He thought about his girlfriend. He thought about the number forty-two, and why forty-seven was a much better number, if one with less significance. He thought about movies and TV and TV shows that would fare better as movies and movies that could use a spin-off show. He thought about thinking. He thought about what he was going to do the next day.

He had arrived at the source of the fireworks.

* * *

It was a massive wall, built of the sturdy, versatile cobblestone. While not the prettiest of substances, cobblestone was a very practical building material. It was inflammable, strong, and everyone seemed to acquire massive piles of it for no good reason. Therefore, the owner of this wall was likely a very level-headed, logical person. I felt good about my chances.

The area around the wall had been clear-cut of trees, allowing for anyone walking the top to see whoever was at the bottom. Another practical choice. It meant that the owner of the wall both expected 'visitors' and knew how to handle said 'visitors.' I felt moderately less certain of my success.

Success in what?

Not being slaughtered by whoever was inside here.

I swallowed a large ball of spittle which had been accumulating in my mouth, along with whatever courage I possessed. I started walking around the wall looking for a door.

* * *

THAT WAS A DAMN BIG DOOR.

Like, elephantine-sized. Wide enough to fit a small house through, and tall enough that, if I were to stand on my own head over and over, Ten of me could fit inside of it. Unsure of what to do, I did the only thing I could think of.

I knocked. Quite politely, I thought.

I then heard a fair few things through the door, which are as follows:

"Guhwhuhghh?!", as far as I could tell. Some misspellings may be present.

"There's a guy at the door, ya Notchdarn idjit! Open the flabbin' doo'!"

"Gyughs Shyir" or something similar.

"No, ya filfy scrub! Check to see who they is first!"

"Yessir!" A small hole opened in the massive door, and an eyeball peered out. "State your name and intent, please?" He glanced over his shoulder and shouted at the other man. "THAT'S THE SCRIPT, RIGHT?!"

"WHATS THE SCRIPT?!"

The man at the eyehole inhaled. "YOU SAY STATE YOUR NAME AND INTENT, RIGHT?!"

I could barely hear a "YEAH" from who I assumed to be the guardsman's commander.

"My name is Curtisimo, and I intend to get a little, help, please. I appear to be a bit lost." You may wonder why I didn't tell him "Help, I've been sucked into a videogame." If you're wondering this, you are an idiot.

The guard shouted over his shoulder. "WHAT NOW?"

"WHAZZEE WANT?"

"HELP! HE'S LOST!"

"ASK HIM IF HE'S ARMED!"

He turned again to me. "You armed?"

"Nope."

"HE'S NOT ARMED!"

"LET HIM IN THEN!"

The guard turned to me, started to say something, then turned away again.

"WHAT'S THE GATE CODE THIS MONTH?"

"2112!"

The guardsman said something about swift service and I made a note if the code. It could be useful. These guards were obviously idiots, but what guards weren't in a video game? Even human guards, not AI ones.

The gates slowly creaked open.

* * *

**This chapter gave me my first bout with writers block. It was... unnerving. Just staring at a blank page, waiting for an idea to come. Typically I have too many ideas, not too few. It was weird.**


	3. Chapter 3: Inside The Gates

**Chapter three! Woo! We're breaking new ground here people, as this is as far as any multi-chaptered Fic I've ever written has gone! Here's to it! *raises glass of milk in toast***

* * *

The guards were actually very nice people, if only barely passing a Turing Test, if such a thing were to be given to them. The one who was at the gate was Larry, who, as he told me, was asleep at the time of my knocking. This explained the various groans and odd gurgles I had heard before. Larry stood about five foot seven, and had a pallor about him that suggested much to much time indoors under weak lighting. He wore a green cloak and an embossed iron helmet, and carried a stone knife at his waist. His trousers were black, as were his boots. I asked him who exactly he was, what he did, to which he replied "Why, I am a member of the "Elite Guard of Peakton! Surely you know that." He had an unplaceable accent, somewhere between Bostonian and German, mixing together in an odd sort of way. I asked him how many people were on the Elite Guard. He replied by explaining that he and Keith, his superior, were the only people in the Elite Guard. Or any type of guard, for that matter. Peakton was a small little settlement, unlike Blackreach or Riverguard, so they only got one guard. They called themselves Elite, though. Keith wore the same garb as Larry, but sported a sizable gut over his black pants. He appeared to hold them up, 'them' meaning his gut and pants, with string. He smelled heavily of alcohol. There being no beer in Minecraft, I questioned him about this.

"Man," I said, "What have you been drinking?"

"Pot 'O Poison." He said. "Sure hits me hard in me gut, but I stop caring after it hits me head!" He cracked a crooked grin.

Well, these were nice people. So very nice. Friendly. Only mildly dodgey.

But they were dull as dirt though, and he needed to get far, far away from them very, very fast.

* * *

Curtisimo hated stupid people. Did not like them one bit. At all.

Well, no, that's not accurate. Curtisimo hated BEING AROUND stupid people. The people in themselves were very nice, typically much nicer than other people in other mental ranges. But Curtisimo didn't like hanging around idiots. It got agrievateing, after a bit.

* * *

"So," I said, "Who's running this settlement?"

"That would be Mrs. Bunting." Said Larry. "Would you like to meet with her? I'm sure she could help you, maybe give you a place to rest tonight so tomorrow you can get back home."

"Yes, I hope so. That would be very kind."

Me and Larry walked through the small town, passing by a few buildings. The architecture of them was rudimentary, and they looked as if you could tear them down with ease. Perhaps this was intentional, so that, once the colony was better established they could build newer, fancier houses on the old lots.

It seemed like a nice, simple place. A farmhouse with a small field and a pair of cows. A library, which, as I could see through the window, was not well stocked. A small mine, which Larry informed me led to a cave with more redstone than you'd ever seen. obviously, though, the main attraction of the town was the Mayors House. It was small by large city standards, but was the largest and most elaborate building here. It had beautiful crenellations and pillars, and its roof curved in a gentle arc. It was mostly redwood and stone brick, which signified it as the house of a rich individual. It's front lawn had excellent landscaping, with various sculptures made from bushes. Larry bid me goodbye, and wished me luck. During our short walk, I learned that Larry wasn't actually as hard to be around as my first impression of him had been. He was a simple man, with simple wants and the means to get them. He was living the life.

As Larry turned and went back to the gate, I knocked on the large door to the Mayoral mansion. Seeing it open slightly, I eased my way inside. The interior was just as lavish as the exterior, with blue carpeting and fanciful decor. There was an over abundance of chandeliers, in my opinion, but people have different tastes.

Seriously though, there were, like, four of them.

Putting the state of the interior aside, I climbed up a wide stairway towards a smallish door. A sign next to it proclaimed _Emily Bunting, Mayor_ in outstanding calligraphy. I knocked at the entrance, and it opened automatically. I stepped in, looking around at the extravagant interior. Bookshelves lined the walls, and where there weren't books there were portraits of past mayors, I saw numerous Buntings on the walls, all of them male. There were a few others, but one thing I noticed: they all had extraordinarily short terms of office, about seven years as a rough rounding. More impressive, though, was the woman behind the desk which dominated the back wall. She was large, not in an overeating kind of way, but more in a _I crush you like grape _kind of way. She wore a black suit with some sort of silly looking white ruffles towards her neck. She had brown hair and eyes, and comically large ears. She was sitting behind the desk, motioning me towards as chair near a wall.

I pulled the chair up closer and waited.

"My name," she said, "Is Emily Bunting. I am the Mayor of this town, and as such I protect it from all dangers." She leaned in closer across the desk. "Are you a danger, sir?"

"No," I replied, looking her dead in the eyes. "But the next one that comes by here will have no trouble getting past your Elite Guard out there." I made a face to emphasize the silliness of their title.

"Alright then. I want you to tell me everything. Who you are, what you do, and how you came to be here."

I decided to cut right to the chase. The best way to get help is to ask for it directly.

"My name is Curtisimo, and I have no idea how I got here, or even where _Here_ is in relation to any type of _There. _Or what kind of place could even be a _There. _I'm an adventurer, sort of, and I don't have any place to go. So, please, could you let me stay here tonight? Until I figure out what to do?"

She looked at me quizzically. "You just woke up in the woods out here and stumbled to us?"

"Yes."

"With no memory of how you got here?"

"Yep."

"And it was random chance you found us?"

"Well, there were fireworks. What were those about, anyway?"

"Some punk just lit them up for fun. And everything you've told me is true?"

"Yes."

More quizzical looks. She reached into a drawer on her desk and pulled out a key. "This is to a spare room in the mansion, originally a guest room. You will stay there fit the night."

With an exuberant thank you, I snatched the key and looked for my room. Finding it a few minutes later, I dropped into a chair. I noticed that the sun was going down eventually, and told myself I should try to go to bed.

Try was the key word here.

* * *

**Chapter three, done! Woohoo! Here's to hoping four comes out just as quickly! Thanks for reading everyone, and remember to leave some reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4: What Goes 'flip' in the Night

**Welcome to chapter four, ladies and gents. In this chapter, Curtisimo reads.**

* * *

I tried to go to sleep. I really did. For a solid hour, at least. But instead of a feeling of peace and calm washing over me, or whatever it was you normal people fell, I just sat in my bed, looking at the pillow, the wall, the ceiling, the pillow again. Eventually I decided to do something useful with my time. I spotted a bookshelf on the far wall, and meandered over to browse the few books that were there. _Creeper Anatomy_ and _Skeletal Intelegence Studies_ I passed over, instead reaching for _Childhood Poems, Stories and Otherwise _by The Brothers Brown.

* * *

A grown-ish Man-Boy-Thing reaching for a book designed for children may seem a little strange. But have you ever read a fairy tale? Not the dumbed down Disney tales, but the original, straight up Grimm's Tales? Gone are the loving families and Hapily Ever Afters. In the original versions, horrid events happen in astonishing detail. Hansel and Gretel, for example. In the newer versions, the kids escape to their father and mother. In the original, the kids are left in the woods to die by their parents for disobeying, they cook and eat the witch, and burn down the candy house. Even the modern children's rhymes can be sinister; take "Rain Rain Go Away" for example. It's about an old man waking up one rainy day and giving himself a concussion. From a child's viewpoint, these are simple little tunes. To an older persons mind though, they're horrible things. So, this is why Curtisimo reached for the children's book: if it were written in an older fashion, it should make for either some nice horror reading or laughable poems about brain-damaged elderly people. He flipped to a page at random and read.

* * *

_The Dark Wizard_

_A Wizard summoned a Wither some day,_

_All around, people lay slain,_

_because of the Wizards meddling dark arts,_

_The Wizard and others died on some day._

_Dark arts are Bad, don't meddle today,_

_or tomorrow might be just like some day._

A nice precautionary tale, but a bit weak, to be honest. Didn't even rhyme much. I could probably write better. Another page.

_Three Endermen and The Blind Explorer_

_Once there were three Endermen walking on a mountain. They were talking about Enderean things, and were in a generally michevious mood. As they were walking, they came upon a Blind Adventurer. He could not see them, so they could not attack. However, The Blind Man knew they were there. He addressed them plainly. "You're Endermen, aren't you?" To wich the first replied yes. The man, knowing little of Endernen, asked if they could grant him wishes, to which they snickered, for if course they couldn't, and said that "Yes, we can."_

_The man went up to the first..._

Bah, later. Not very interesting, even. Towards the back of the book the pages looked rougher, as if they had been added after the fact. They had handwriting as well, not the type of the rest of the book. He flipped to the first of these odd pages.

_Herobrine, Notch and the Invention of The World_

_At first, there was nothing but Herobrine, Notch and a whole lot of nothing. Nothing was interesting, at least for a little bit, but pretty soon these two guys got bored, right? So Notch, he makes Minecraftia. The sun, the sky, the ground, all right up out of thin air. And Herobrine, he added the living creatures, cows, squids, those kinda things. And it was nice. Pretty. But pretty soon, Notch and Herobrine get bored with that, too. So they pool together and make us. Originally, we had powers like Notch; we could make anything out of nothing. Herobrine thought that was missing the point a bit though, so he made us normal. He also added in the monsters and icky things. And after all that happened, Herobrine got jealous of Notch. He was like "How come you built the world and I only made the creatures, huh?" So Herobrine went and made The Nether. And, well, from what I've told you about The Nether, you csn see that it didn't turn out too well. Still, it was Herobrines world, and he liked it. So he lives there now, mostly. Oh, and those Endermen, they're from someplace else entirely. After all this happened, we became aware of Users. People from another place entirely, who manifested as one of us and just kind of... Did stuff. Were a bit fuzzy on them, as our world hasn't had a visit from one yet, as far as anyone knows. There defidently IS one though, because the churchy-preachy guys have said some stuff about it. Something along the lines of "The User has unleashed Darkness and Greatness" when we started finding all this weird stuff, and something else about parallel worlds further along in time or some nonsense. Anyway, that's how it happened. When you read this, I hope you think of me. Uncle Seymor._

* * *

Hmm. Well, that's interesting. Nice little bit of background there. Might be useful later.

And then I woke up. I assumed that I had blacked out for my typical ninety minutes of sleep.

* * *

**Don't really know what to say, other than see y'all n next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Big Bad

**Alright, I've got a question for you, readers. Do you prefer the quick, 1000ish word updates I'm doing now, or would you like me to write longer chapters? It's entirely up to you guys.**

**Also, I edited the last chapter a bit.**

* * *

After another mild surprise at my not-having-a-bagel-ness, a breakfast of bacon, and a warm send off from Ms. Bunting, I was off to the west to look for Veld, the nearest large city. Veld was situated in the mountains, and would be a pretty long walk away. I checked my pack, just to keep tabs on everything I had. I had a bit of dirt and a sapling, from my first night I assume, and I had been given a decent amount of bread and dried meats, a torch, a roll of cloth to be used as a bed, and a stone sword. Decent travelers gear.

With nothing left to do, I began to hum, then whistle, then sing as I walked.

* * *

The Player was a strange one, for sure. I had been following him ever since he had left the towns gates, watching him from the treetops. It wasn't hard in the slightest. He was loud, and on the off chance I lost him, he was leaving a trail a blind man could follow. What was strange, though, was the fact that he had been talking to himself for the best part if the day. Nonsensical sentences, in squeaky a falsetto or fantastically deep tones. Often he interrupted his ramblings to bang upon trees or his sides, or to make sputtery noises with his mouth, in what appeared to be some sort of rhythm. If I didn't know better I would say he was making music, but it was such a hellish din that it couldn't be. Or perhaps he was just off-key? Either way, insane babbler or not, it was my job to follow this boy, who the Elder prophesied as being the Player.

* * *

He was just off-key. While he enjoyed music greatly, Curtisimo was the worst at singing. Ever.

* * *

The Taint was happy, something that had not happened to it for an eon, at least. It was happy because The Player had crossed into The Game, and this caused enough of a disturbance that it could finally cross from this bleak plain it had created, and into Minecraftia.

The Taint's world wasn't originally the black non-space it was now. Originally, it was much like Minecraftia or Earth. It was inhabited by a race of people who's technology was so advanced that we would view it as nothing short of Magic. This race created great cities of phenomenal beauty, tools of infinite merit, and explored new universes. Eventually, they even came to understand how to create their own universes, worlds of beauty and riches, where gold grows on trees or night never falls.

However, one day a man created a universe so twisted that it only had room for one thing: The Taint. The Taint could be boiled down to a hyperintellegent bacteria; its only goals were to consume and multiply. The Taint spilled into the world of these geniuses, and converted it to Taint piece by piece. The race of that world attempted to stop it, but as they could not find The Taint's heart, they could not destroy it. Eventually, it all fell, and became part of the brackish goo that was the Taint.

And now it had a whole new world to destroy. It wriggled around the tear in reality which bonded the two universes, and eventually came across a most promising position to start from: the lair of The Wither. It pushed through, already planning its attack.

* * *

The Wither was confused and conflicted. A portal had appeared in its home. Originally, all of them had agreed that they should destroy it, but as that had failed, they were arguing. Left wanted to wait and see if anything edible came through, but Right wanted to try and destroy it again. Center was still examining the portal, trying to figure out what to make of it. It wasn't a portal to Minecraftia, meaning it wouldn't be able to eat any humans today. However, it had no idea as to what it lead too. The portal was all black, like looking into nothingness. All of a sudden, a man popped out. Or, what LOOKED like a man. It was Man-shaped, at least. But it was more just a rough purple outline of a Man. Right started to attack, but Center and Left held it back, sensing something strange afoot. The man looked down at the outline of a clipboard, which appeared to have extended out of his hand.

"The Wither, correct? I'm pronouncing that right, right?"

At a signal from Center, both Left and Right fired at once. When the smoke cleared, the man-like thing was still there.

"So I take it that's a yes, then? I'm speaking to The Wither?"

_Another volley._

"Stop that. Anyway, I have a proposition. We have similar goals, you see."

_A volley, this time, with feeling!_

"Seriously, stop. As I was saying, we-

_FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE_

"C'mon, you got three heads, surely one of 'em isn't a moro-

_SHOOT IT UNTIL IT DIES_

After a solid minute of explosions, The Wither let up. There, hovering above a newly-formed smoldering crater, was the man-entity.

"So, you're not gonna be reasonable? Just try and shoot me?"

Left shot again, though the explosive was deflected by Center.

"Fuck you."

The Entity expanded, shooting tendrils of brackish purple-black goop against the walls. Wherever they landed, they spread, until there was just sludge where once there were walls. The main body of the thing slowly approached The Wither, and even though Left and Right were firing wildly, it remained uninjured. It raised a hand-shape to The Wither and extended it, into Center.

_Victim number one. You should feel honored._

Frantic cries from Left and Right. _Where'd you go, Where's Center, What ARE you?!_

_I am the Taint, and you are my newest Vessel. Congrats._

* * *

Curtisimo continued to sing as he walked towards Veld.

* * *

**God, it felt like this chapter took FOREVER! Other than that, I feel the only thing to say here is:**

**_DUN DUN DUUUUUUNNNN!_  
**


	6. Chapter 6: Entering Vale

**Hello, everybody! Time for chapter six!**

**... I never really have much to say in the Author Notes, do I?**

* * *

This boy.

The Player.

He is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to capture.

He doesn't sleep, for one thing. At first I thought that I would grab him the first time that he made camp, but nope. He set a fire and some blankets, then just SAT THERE. Not sleeping, just staring into the fire, at the moon, at the countryside. And he did this night after night, the same thing over and over.

So, I thought to capture him when he was tired. Not sleeping makes you tired, right? Apparently, not this guy. Perky as a peach. Not slowing down, not losing coordination, just the same. Still walking. Still singing.

And, his singing! It's horrible! He literally couldn't hold a tune with a glove and a cup. And he never stopped. He ran through a list of songs, and once he finished them, just started again! I was beginning to think that he knew I was here, and was torturing me.

* * *

I had finally reached the mountains, supposedly where Vale was. After a brief run through a tunnel, I came across a sign, apparently placed for no reason.

_Welcome to Vale_

I didn't see any city. I checked the back of the sign.

_Look up, stupid._

I looked up. Oh. There it was.

It was beauty of a city, which appeared much like part of the mountain it sat upon. It was a series of streets, interconnected by bridges across the peaks of the mountain. Atop it all was a tower which extended into the clouds, overlooking the rest if the city. I ran further along the path, and climbed up the steps leading upwards towards the settlement.

* * *

Upon reaching the top, I was greeted by a guard sat in a bunker, monitoring who came and went. After a brief exchange, I decided to rent a room at a bar called The Lucky Enchanter. It was renowned for good food and extremely cheap rooms, and being moneyless as I was, cheap was a good thing. Passing many a home and business, sometimes in the same building, I arrived at the hotel.

It was a dump.

The wood was rotting away, the walls were crumbling, and the man lying against the exterior looked like had had too many drinks and punches to the face, possibly simultaneously. I entered, half expecting all activity to stop, like in a western. You know, when the hero walks into the saloon and all the music stops as everyone sees who entered. Of course no one but the bartender actually looked up, and, seeing I wasn't about to blow the establishment up, went back to studying a ledger of some type.

That's when it hit me.

I stepped back outside, and re-read the sign. Illegible. I studied the windows. Covered in a layer of grime thicker than the window itself. The door had a small closed sign hanging from the knob.

It was The Lucky Enchanter. I had written this! The bartender was named Fredric, and downstairs there was a poker table where, once weekly, a group of men and not-men gathered for a game. I walked up the Fredric, and took a seat at the bar.

He gave me a look, and said "Bit young for bars, aren't you?"

I replied with a blank stare.

"Do you have a parent/guardian/chaperone with you?" He said, in a mocking monotone. "No? Didn't think so. Just don't drink yourself to death kid, don't want the guard nosing around more than it already does."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll just have a Snowflake, virgin, please." This was no drink order. It was a code.

Fredric replied with _The Look._

* * *

_The Look_ is a technique that, while easy to learn, is difficult to master. Parents use it all the time. It's the shifty, corner-if-your-eye, head cocked slightly Look that makes you feel squeamish and weak. Masters of _The Look_ can communicate whole thoughts just with glances. Fredric was a master.

* * *

_Who are you, where are you from and how do you know about this? _Said _The Look. _Meanwhile, Fredric reached for a key under the counter. Sliding it over towards me, I grabbed it up and nodded my head knowingly. I took a seat near the back of the room. Now I just had to wait for closing.

Over the couple of hours until closing, I saw many people; most of them just random townsfolk, but I saw a woman who was CLEARLY planning to kill someone. I mean, c'mon. If you're an assassin, don't wear a big scary looking cloak. Once most of the people had gone I pulled the key out of my pocket and, still receiving _The Look _from Fredric, I climbed into the basement. Past a row of barrels and behind a painting lay the room I was looking for; the Poker Room. I wasn't here for a game however, as there was no one to play against. Instead I headed towards a small door towards the side which I knew would be there. Through the door was the room belonging to Dave the zombie-man. Suitable for someone of his unique composure, the room was all dark. However, I knew the room in my mind's eye. After making sure that Dave was out, I flopped onto the futon against the wall and, to my surprise, fell asleep quickly.

* * *

I wonder if he noticed me in the bar.

... Probably not. After the bar 'closed' I decided to wait around outside until he came out, then trail him until an opertune moment.

* * *

**Alright everyone, you probably aren't reading this. You just see the line break followed by bold text and go "Welp, that's done" and move on. I don't do that. I hide some of my better humor in these intros and outros, so that attentive readers get a bit more. Anyhoo...**

**OCs.**

**I want 'em. You got 'em. Lets do this. I require:**

**A name.**

**A physical description.**

**A list of likes and dislikes.**

**A description of their personality.**

**A reasonable background history.**

**And this needs to be MORE DETAILED THAN ANYTHING EVER.**

**You see, I write like S. E. Hinton. I know every single aspect of a person or place, even minute things that won't be used. To successfully use an OC, I need that level of detail. You may also be on-call for advice as to "What would X do if Y was being Z'd by Q?"**

**Keep in mind that only one will be accepted. Happy writing, and see you next chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7: Quest Get!

**Writing is fun. You get to entertain the masses, decompress your head, keep yourself busy at night, and hide jokes for the smarter audience members.**

**I love it. Chapter seven time!**

* * *

I opened my eyes and found myself in a sterile white room, sitting on a plush black lovechair. The room was well lit, though I couldn't see any identifiable light source. Considering I had just fallen asleep after being sucked into a video game, I assumed the obvious.

"Alright, get it over with! Bla bla bla, prophesy prophesy prophesy, kill the dragon WIN! Right?"

I received no response from the room, though I thought I heard muttering from somewhere.

"Um... Not exactly..." Said the man who had just appeared in the room. He was sat upon an office chair, and between me and him was a large wooden desk, sporting a large pile of papers, pens, and various crumbs. The man was not skinny, to be sure, but not fat either. He had the look of a man who was pleased with himself, and a hat to go with it. He was Notch.

"Alright, so..." He said. "First of all, I need to ask. _How has it taken so long for you to go to sleep for an extended amount of time?!"_

I shrugged.

"And even now," He said, looking at his watch, "We only have an hour, which is like five minutes in here."

I shrugged again. "Sorry. Don't really have control of it."

He smiled the crooked smile of the not-very-happy-at-the-moment. "Yes, yes, I know. But it's inconvenient all the same. I have precious little time to explain what's going on.

Theres an entity in Minecraftia called the Taint. It was a bit of dormant Beta-code that, for some reason, reactivated once you came through to here. It's main objective is to eat everything that isn't itself, and its quite cunning."

"Let me guess." I said. "I gotta kill it?"

"Yes. But the most an ordinary weapon could do against it is stall it and piss it off. There are items scattered around the world, magical artifacts from where The Taint is from. Those are the only things that can really hurt it. Let me see, I've got a list somewhere..." He began rifling through the desk.

"What would stop me from just leaving now, not killing it?"

"Nothing. Or something. I don't really know, this is a bit unprecedented." He said, continuing to search through files and folders. "But, I mean, think about it! You're _in_ Minecraft! And there's a quest that needs doing! Isn't this every nerds dream?!"

Admittedly, it was sounding pretty cool the more he pitched it.

"A foul ancient entity bent on taking over the world! Ancient items of mystic power! Teamwork, friendship, camaraderie, adventure... Oh, here it is!" He pulled a dusty book from the bowels of the desk. "Here you go!" He tossed the book to me.

I caught it and, wiping off some of the dust, revealed the title in a flowing gold leaf:

_The Lexicon_

_Everything you need to know about Most Everything_

Snazzy. I opened the book to find all but the first page blank.

"It will fill itself in as you go. Go ahead and read the first page!" Said Notch. I flipped the book and started reading.

_Hello, new Adventurer! _The book read. _So, you've unleashed an Eldrich horror upon the universe. Not to worry! With the correct tools, even the mightiest of Cthulhus can be punched out! Not that I would recommend punching out Cthulhu, or anything equal to Cthulhu. That would be bad._

_Anyway, the one you're fighting is a particularly nasty one. The Taint. Ugh. Big, mean, purple thingumy that wants to eat everything and fart itself out. That's really all I know about it at the moment, but I'll tell you what I can later. Anyway, magic stuff. You need it. The useful items I can detect in this world are... Ah..._

_Oh, wow. This world has some good stuff. You need the wands of ice, fire, lightning and earth, respectively. You could use... Ooo! The sword of the Zephyr and the Pick of the Core! Rare, they are. You might also want the Boots of the Travelers, and the Armor of the Ancients. Whole set of it. Oh, and Herobrine has the Scepter of the Nine Hells, which would be friggin' AWESOME if you could get. I wonder a bit who put all this magic stuff in this world. Whatever. You can put me away now. Oh, and, the wand of lightning is at the top of the Vale Tower. I think._

"It's very... Emotive." I said, putting it in my back pocket.

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? I like it. Oh, it's almost time for you to go!"

"Wait!" I exclaimed, holding up a finger.

"Yes?"

"Can I touch the hat?"

Notch looked at me with a blank stare.

"No."

And, with the sound of a drainpipe, I was shocked back to consciousness.

* * *

The Taint didn't like this vessel very much. While its natural capabilities for destruction were excellent, its mobility was lacking, and having to ignore three separate consciousnesses at once was agrivating. They would be squashed into a corner soon enough, but he still needed to access them for information as to how to control their body. The Nether Fortress was coming up though, and the long trail of Tainted ground behind it showed its foothold in this world. However, a body with more power would do nicely. It was time to test this worlds so-called 'Gods.' It was time to take Herobrine. It sent thin tendrils towards the castle, creeping up the turrets and balconies. Even if it couldn't take the castle now, it could certainly consume the surrounding area and choke them off from outside help.

The Taint smiled, the three heads of the Wither contorting horribly as The Withers minds struggled against their jailor.

* * *

**Next chapter I'll add the OC, but there's still plenty of time to submit one! Happy writing, all!**


	8. Chapter 8: A Fine Day For Villainy

**In this chapter we introduce the OC! She was created by the wünderbaar SkyLadyAnnemarie, who is a nice person who should receive more views. **

**Chapter**** eight writing powers, GO!**

* * *

The Taint spread itself over the area surrounding the Fortress, consuming the landscape and the creatures that were unlucky enough to be caught. The ones it didn't consume physically, it consumed mentally; devolved into twisted, rabid animals kept alive only by the spores of Taint that infected them. The pigmen turned on each other, attempting to slaughter and eat each other, only to have the bodies rise, half consumed, as more of the putrid, slimy monsters. Magma cubes cooled into a hardened substance, which slid along the ground as if they were frictionless. The areas they slid over were coated in even more Taint, and whatever they hit was either crushed or subjected to the same treatment. The Ghasts were lucky, as their ability to fly allowed them to escape. Some, however, resting on the ground weren't so lucky as they dissolved into a gelatinous paste and re-formed into horrible masses of eyes and pus, firing black fireballs at the slightest provocation.

So, yeah. Good day for Taint.

The Fortress, however, was proving troublesome. It's bricks were created out of the hottest of lava and molded into their shape, leaving few cracks for The Taint to gain a foothold. The remaining ghasts were firing upon it whenever it DID gain purchase, causing it to fall back once again. Nevertheless, it was slowly making progress. The bridges closest to the mainland were slowly crumbling under its assault, and soon either Herobrine or the local Blazes would be forced to come out. That was when The Taint would strike.

* * *

Herobrine didn't know who/what he/she/it was, but it was trying to Fortress (mostly unsuccessfully) and was killing The Nether, his baby, his work. And that meant it had to go.

But Herobrine wasn't dumb. Using his eyes as the natural flashlights they were, he rooted in the vaults of his Armory for his most powerful weaponry. Outside, Blazes stood ready to receive orders from him, and Ghasts peppered it with explosives. His eyes fell upon his most valuable and powerful object: The Staff of the Nine Hells. He wasn't really sure where is was from or how it worked, but it sure packed a HELL of a punch. Wrapping his hand around the heated stone of the shaft, he slung it into a strap on his back and marched outside.

"Blazes!" He shouted above the din of the rabble, all of which instantly quieted and faced him. "Blazes, line the walks and await further orders."

_**"UNDERSTOOD"** _Shouted the Blazes, their metallic voices grating Herobrines ears. He marched after them, ready to face whatever this terror was.

* * *

"Hello?!"

The Taint turned its attention towards the small figure on a bridge.

"Hello?! Is there a mind behind whatever you are?"

The Taint formed the figure of a man at the edge of itself, the part closest to the man. He was still roughly twenty feet away, too far to possess him.

"I am Herobrine, God of Life and Death, Lord of The Nether and owner of this Fortress. Who the HELL are you?!"

The Taint almost laughed. It had managed to drum up 'Herobrine' and 'God' from The Withers head, but no images. It had expected someone/something a bit more impressive, like itself. Not this insubstantial being. True, power radiated from him, but it insignificant.

"YOU'RE Herobrine? As in THE Herobrine?"

"Yes."

"Look, Herobrine. You are nothing compared to me. NOTHING. I am vast and unstoppable. You're a single man. While you may call yourself powerful, you have no idea who you are dealing with. So just step about fifteen steps forward and get it over with."

Herobrine pulled a pair of sunglasses from his back pocket and slipped them on. He turned over his shoulder. "Controlled volley, repeat until stopped!" He shouted.

**_"Controlled volley, repeat until further orders confirmed." _ **Responded the hundreds of Blazes lining the walls. And then they began to fire, all synchronously, into the purple mass that is The Taint.

Admittedly, The Taint recoiled at first. Their bolts seared hotter than any heat it had previously encountered, which caused it to lose composure. It's man-shape in front of Herobrine dissolved, and it pulled back, contracted onto itself.

And then it recovered. And it laughed. A horrible, rattling sound which seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. It was the hiss of lava and the rattle of stone and the shrieks and howls and moans from every creature it possessed. It was the sound of a cracking world. The Taint created the man-shape again, in front if Herobrine, closer now.

"Is that your strongest attack?"

Herobrine pulled the Staff off his back, and leveled the butt of the rod against his shoulder.

"Nope."

And then he willed the Staff to fire, and fire it did. It released a blast of pure energy, pure heat and hatred and fire. It was brighter than any sun, more powerful than a singularity. It had the power to tear holes in the very fabric of reality, if used carelessly. But it was used with precision and accuracy, and hit The Taint squarely. It blasted it with such unrelenting power that it was torn into ribbons and strips, large patches if bulbous purple sores and rashes breaking out on whatever remained.

The Taint was not dead, but it screamed. And screamed. The sky shook and the bottom of the world trembled. The Taint screamed a shriek if pain and rage and horror and pain and _**RAGE.**_

The Taint reformed itself into a large, amorphous blob of purple-black murk. It spread itself around the Fortress, then extended up into the roof of the Nether. It covered the Fortress in a bubble made of itself, and slowly extended a tendril through the air towards Herobrine. He made to raise the Staff again, but it was swatted from his hands in the blink of an eye. A large sphere formed on the end of the tendril, which formed a face.

_**"You hurt me. And now I shall remove you from this existence."** _The Taint boomed in a voice like thunder. The Taint constricted upon the castle, rearing up. And then it struck.

Tendrils expanded from the sheer wall of The Taint at breakneck speed, crushing stone and skewering bodies. Shouts of **MALFUNCTION **could be heard from and Blazes they struck, quickly consuming or infecting them. Herobrine grabbed the Staff from the ground and called for the Blazes to follow him to the Vault, the deepest and most fortified section of his fortress. As he ran, he passed a Nether Portal, leading to any of the many Portals just like it in Minecraftia. He hoped against hope that The Taint wouldn't pass through, and closed the door of the Vault to the world.

* * *

The Taint had taken the Fortress. It could not reach Herobrine, as he had sealed himself inside his Vault, made of a substance it would take The Taint days to crack. Rather than focus on him, it turned to a portal set into the wall. Through experimentation and manipulation of Blaze minds, it learned that it was a Master Portal. It could lead to any and all Portals in Minecraftia. Using its various senses, it sniffed out the aura of power, emanating from a particular room in the portal network. It slowly edges through the portal, looking around for some kind of vessel. There. Against the far wall, back to the portal, was a girl crushing plants of some type.

* * *

In the room under the Vale library lived a girl, named Anoka. She wore plain brown trousers and boots, made of leather. She also had a dark blue cloak, the standard dressings of a library employee. The emblem of the library on the cloaks back; a purple circle filled with stars and a crescent moon, proved its library-ness. Her pale eyes and dark, magenta-dyed hair accented her pale skin. She had lived in the library for a good part of her life, her mother having died upon her birth and her father nowhere to be found. Her first six years were spent at an orphanage, before she ran away to the streets. She eventually found herself a job at the Library of Vale, a prestigious establishment. She worked as an 'exploratory agent.' She searched for and tracked down rare books, wether they be bought at auction or dug up from lost caves. In return, the Library gave her board, food, and free access to the caves underneath the library. It was within one of the caves where she was now.

Even though the Library had been kind to her, it had done nothing to temper her mood. She was angry, had become so during those years at the orphanage. She was angry at them all, everybody. And she wanted them all gone.

And she would, one day, get her wish.

She had taken study into lost or dark arts. She was a Mage and Alchemyst, brewing potions that could kill in a single sip or grant the drinker nigh-invulnerability. She also wove and crafted magical items. Even recently, she had managed to create a portal to another world! She had found it hot and inhospitable, but to think of the implications!

Currently she was attempting to create some sort of fireproof lotion or cream to allow her to brave the world she had found. She turned towards the portal and-

What was that.

At first it had appeared as if the substance of the portal had been taking some sort of shape, but she now saw that it was actually a deprecate entity coming out of the portal. Unsure what to do, she asked it the first question she thought of.

* * *

"Are you the destroyer of worlds?"

The Taint was a little astonished by this. A mortal, simply asking it a question. While she was not the source of energy it had detected, it sensed promise in the Human; a deep, burning hatred, a thirst for power and knowledge. Perhaps it could trick this Human into being its vessel for this land, until it saw fit to... dispose of her.

**"I've been known as that." **The Taint said, putting on its **BIG ANGRY GOD **voice. **"I am, however, most often known as The Taint. Why do you ask what I am?"**

The girl looked at it straight on, unafraid, a dangerous passion in her eyes. "Because I want to join you. I want to watch them all burn. Based on the fiery hell you've come from, I can only assume you want the same. And I want in."

The Taint was overjoyed! It had been long since it had any sort of following, and this Human was offering herself up! Lapsing back into its normal voice, it said, as if in deep thought, "I suppose I could allow you to assist me. But first, I require you." The Taint forcibly removed the tip of the tentacle sticking through the portal, and immediately retracted the stub inside. What was left was a small, wriggling sliver of purple slime, which quickly stiffened, coming back under control.

"Put me behind your ear, or inside it, some place where I can communicate with you." Said the sliver of Taint. The girl swiftly kneeled down and placed the sliver on the interior of her ear. She shuddered as it wormed its way up her ear canal, into her brain.

"What is your name, girl?" Whispered the Taint.

"Anoka." She spoke aloud.

"Alright, Anoka. I've sensed a giant source of power, a rift between universes. I need you to take me there."

The girl nodded. "Which way?"

After thinking for a second, The Taint said "That tunnel." It swiveled her eyes to see what it was pointing out. The girl, harboring the unnatural being, rushed down the corridor, following The Taints instructions as they went.

* * *

"It ends here." Said the Taint. "Just beyond this wall."

"This wall leads to the basement of some old pub or something. Sure it's there?" "Positive."

Anoka slowly and quietly removed a stone from the wall, creating a hole big enough to see through. "There's nothing there except some guy snoring on the couch."

And yet, it was from this guy where to emerging was emanating. The Taint thought fast. It couldn't absorb him in its current constrictions, but it could keep him close at hand.

"This boy is the source of energy I was speaking of. Befriend him and follow him, and we must lure him to me if I am to absorb him."

"Absorb? That sounds a bit nasty."

"It is."

The Taint was glad. So very glad. It had found The Player! If it could absorb the player, it would grow nigh-unstoppable from the fluxuating energy within him!

Although, it had expected someone a bit more... Impressive, honestly. The Taint figured he should stop thinking that about this universe.

* * *

**This really should've been two chapters, and did I get the OC right, and I don't like the ending, and OHMYGODSTRESSINGOUTMAN *post***


End file.
